Big Man: The Playground

He did not move or budge within the instances of him arriving promptly at his room in the hospital.

Laying smack dab in the middle of the bed hooked up to the various wires and trinkets of modern medicine to help track his vitals-essentially the war for recovery below his skin surface. He was a bit out of it as he was wrapped in various bandages and bondages from the serious injuries that was sustained from the Dead and rotting pink shirts. Martian Lemire and One Joey Woodland.

The meds must have been working as witnessing the commotion around him from his mother Penny whirling in and out of the room, talking with the many doctors and nurses on staff to lastly Paula and Samantha Omen falling asleep at his bedside-refusing to leave.

The entire landscape From Dylans Perspective was hard to think. As he struggled with the faint disturbing image of a cartoon mascot that was his 1st jobs logo now, became stuff of nightmares. As he tried to sleep seeing the images of the body size of this man.

The distinctive matching clothing identical to the actual Mascot of “Smiley PO” from the overalls and the shirt he was wearing.

The distinctive difference from real and fake was the glove choice as, there must have been no white gloves on say at the Murder store so, he invested in some Kitchen apparel Dish washing gloves. Thick and grippy.

However, from all of that shooting through his mind as he tries to catch some winks-what scared him was the blade this monster withdrew before he fully passed out. A huge Butcher Cleaver. Something that seemed to be made from a personal creation as the handle was a resemblance of the kitchen ware except longer.

Then the Blade- (The Cleaver portion) was slightly larger but, not that much.

A great initiator of bringing Death and destruction.

In between his moments of clarity and looking around from his bed to at least to know what was going on with him. He did hear a lot silently from the supporting characters to the larger story that seemed to be unfolding. As newer characters entered to “stir-up the pot” to, get answers and justice for the bodies that was remaining two floors down from his very room.

As the faint light brown of Green Meadows finest had been summoned by the grieving families and by the occupation they were upheld to. From Dylan’s perspective he looked as he saw His Mom speak to a deputy in the far corner of his room. Observing how fast they were taking notes on their notepad.

Then, another one speaking with Mr. Dayton and his viewpoint into what had happened? And how “Two kids were butchered on Your Clock!”

The deputy must have been semi angered by the layout of the show he was playing his role in. as that was the one-line Dylan Sheen herd echo from the hospital Hallway where they were systematically leaving no doubt of the dedication to their job.

What made Dylan concerned was the fact of waking up to A Police Detective. A Wolf in a suit type of image that was being projected sitting at his bedside smiling professionally with his hands crossed.

“Well, hello there Mr. Sheen I am Glad you’re awake.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Ha well yes. Um I am Detective Bryan Kelp. I am with the Newer Police initiative with The Green Meadows Police department and I was put in charge of this case that sadly has you placed in here. At “Greens Glory” Hospital. For you see your injuries that was as severe as they were on top of, the discovery of the two dead friends of yours in the pink shirts. Speaks to me a lot, and welp I am here waiting to listen to see if you can help?”

“Help?”

“Yes, Dylan Help. As there was no way someone just magically came out of nowhere in a fast-food parking lot as, late as it was to kick your ass. Then boom brutally attack The Pink Shirts? I mean was it someone from Serenity’s House?”

The detective went straight to the easiest solution first. The Homeless. And the deranged that harvest the scraps and the raw food of the underbelly of the small town that it lies within. As Dylan remembered how his cousin and himself understood of the pact or the fact of the police and “they” try not to intertwine with each other. So, I am sure from The Young and smart looking detective that “Was just brought on board” he was looking for that to be the answer to this drastic problem. Not the answer Dylan gave.

“No, I could not see his face. Only his body”

“Body? Ok? I am listening.”

The detective leaned over straightening out his Navy-blue Blazer. Totally eclipsing his white work shirt underneath. His jeans he was wearing disappeared from Dylans Viewpoint-totally putting his upper body in Dylans personal space.

“He was short, fat, and Pink. And he smiled a lot”

Detective Kelp sat back slow in embarrassment looking back at the still recovering young man.

“Was he a pig?”

The Detective asked sarcastically. “Yes-Yesss” Dylan said excitedly.

It was then of his emotional outburst a few nurses came running in to calm him. As the outburst could have been in the process to worsen his condition that much more. Dylan watched from the pile on he was dealing with as the detective saw the opportunity to leave marking, the questions he asked as a “hearsay” thing. As he saw Dylan as a troubled young man dealing with the aftershock. What he did not understand though was the truth That Dylan was literally speaking except for the few key parts that was left out, as Dylan did not want to recall the details that was haunting him at night.

“There you go. Shh”

“Shh calm down now and rest King.”

“Nice and comfy in your bed”

The comforting Nurse in Her terminology did its job after she injected his Ivy with a sedative. Dylan closed his eyes staring up at the all-white square designs hovering above his bed.